


Time Difference of Three

by edy



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Christmas, Dysphoria, Established Relationship, M/M, Online Relationship, Recovery, Surgery, TOPFL Christmas Challenge, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 10:12:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17098670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edy/pseuds/edy
Summary: In which Josh surprises Tyler with a visit earlier than their original plan—three days before Tyler's scheduled top surgery.





	Time Difference of Three

**Author's Note:**

> translation into русский available: [Разница Во Времени Длиною В Три](https://ficbook.net/readfic/7725066) by [RunTheConverse](https://ficbook.net/authors/288286)
> 
> -
> 
> happy holidays!

Tyler has watched the weather all week, texting Josh quick updates about how it's supposed to be clear, clear, and partly cloudy, but now it's raining, and Tyler's scared it's going to ruin their plans. He's gripping the back of a chair in the kitchen, his phone in front of him, Josh's voice crackling through the speakers as service dips in and out.

Despite the words clipping and making little sense, Josh's commentary is the only thing keeping Tyler from throwing up. Instead of vomiting, Tyler's chewing on his lip and ripping it to shreds. "I'm sorry," he says suddenly. "We were going to go the park and walk downtown and hit up that record store I keep telling you about because I  _know_  you'll love it and—"

"Tyler," Josh says, and it's the clearest Josh has come through this evening. "Listen to me— _it's_   _okay_. It's totally okay, dude. We'll meet up another time. I'll see if I can get a refund on my plane ticket. It's no big deal."

Still holding onto the back of the kitchen chair, Tyler squeezes the wood until his knuckles turn white. "But, Josh… it  _is_  a big deal."

Josh sighs. "I know."

Tyler picks up his phone and walks into the adjoining living room. There's a moment of fear where Tyler nearly drops his phone when he peels back the curtains at a crack of thunder rattling the windows. "It's supposed to turn into sleet, I think," he says, peering outside and breathing as deeply as he can to calm the nerves rolling and rolling in his stomach. "And then… some people are saying it's supposed to snow." Tyler sees lightning in the distance.

"I'm still gonna try to make it for New Year's, okay? Maybe Christmas, if I can get those days off work."

"Are you going into work tomorrow?"

"Depends."

Tyler sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. He drops the curtain.

"This was a spur-of-the-moment thing anyway, you know?" Josh says, laughing. "We should have known something would fuck up our plans."

"Yeah."

They're quiet. Tyler listens to the thunder. He does not cry.

"Hey, Josh?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm going to go to bed now. Just lie down for a bit."

Josh is slow in his response. "Oh. Right. I—Tyler, this isn't your fault. You can't control the weather."

"No, I know that. I just… I just don't feel well. I'll text you if I, I, if I, like, get worse or whatever." Tyler raises his hand, eye-level. Even in the dark of his living room, he can tell his cuticles are ruined.

"I love you a whole lot."

"I love you a whole lot, too." Tyler hangs up. He falls to the floor, presses his forehead to the carpet, and screams.

*

They've been together for a year, finally feeling secure enough financially to take the plunge and  _meet_. While both Tyler and Josh were fine with their relationship remaining by online means, after Josh received a raise for being promoted to assistant manager, they realized  _hey, we can do this—we can meet_.

The original plan was to spend New Year's together, and potentially Christmas, if Josh was able to get time off work. He lived in California, and when given the chance, he would spend as much time with Tyler in Ohio as he could. It was after they first met online that they each lamented over the fact they were in the same state for most of their childhood—even in the same city—before Josh's family moved away during his teenage years.

"Maybe we could have been friends!" Josh said one night during their nightly phone calls—"nightly" being subjective, when it was nine o'clock for Tyler and barely six o'clock for Josh. "We could have been friends, and—oh—what if we were high school sweethearts and went to prom together and got married right after high school and went to college together and—"

"I don't know about that, man," Tyler remarked.

Josh scoffed. "Why do you think that?"

"Well, for one," Tyler said, stifling a laugh. "My name wasn't 'Tyler' when I was a kid."

That was the first instance when Tyler came out to Josh, but it wasn't as if he were hiding anything from Josh in the first place; they had met on Instagram, after Josh slid into Tyler's DMs to tell him his piano covers were "rocking". Josh soon dropped the surfer lingo when they began to talk more and found out they were both Ohio boys at heart even after all these years.

"I have a tattoo of it on my arm," Josh said once.

"I saw the pictures," Tyler said. He could hear Josh smiling when he uttered, "Oh,  _yeah_."

Tyler's Instagram feed, aside from his music covers from the breakroom of his work, were of mundane things he saw on his walk to and from work at the piano repair store downtown—cats, plants, the sun hitting a brick wall  _just right_.

And then, there were the progress shots of his journey on testosterone.

It took a while for Josh to scroll down to like and comment on those, only stating that he was "forgetful". Tyler saw no reason to accuse him outright of lying because nothing else in Josh's actions nor his demeanor during their video calls hinted that he would be ghosting Tyler anytime soon.

After Tyler revealed his name wasn't his own when he was a child, Josh cracked a joke about how he went by "Josh" even though his full name was "Joshua". Quietly, he added, "I know that's not the same. I'm sorry. I'm just really nervous."

"Talk about our hypothetical wedding some more," Tyler told him, and Josh continued in strive.

Tyler appreciated how curious Josh was and how often he tried to understand better. He always came to Tyler only after his own research left him confused.

It was on their one-month anniversary when Josh's research veered more into anecdotal than clinical. He wanted to know when Tyler started taking testosterone and why Tyler still had his "tits", since he thought these two events were somehow related. "I didn't know if you binded at all," Josh says, "but when you post pictures sometimes, I can…  _tell_  that you're not… always binding."

On another nightly phone call with a time difference of three, Tyler informed Josh that he was poor. He told him, "You have no idea how many times I stood in my kitchen with a knife in my hand and my mom on the phone."

Josh gulped. Tyler closed his eyes at that. "Sorry," he said, but Josh said, "Don't apologize, okay? I get it. I'm poor, too. I'm still living with my parents, and I'm working a dead-end job at Guitar Center, and things just… aren't getting better at all, it seems like. I shouldn't have asked you something like that. It was insensitive."

"It's okay. It's not like I…  _like_  my tits or anything. It's just that… I would remove them the first chance I get."

They each were silent for a moment, until Tyler said, "I started taking T when I was nineteen."

They were silent again as Josh counted. "So, it's been five years?"

"Yeah. My mom surprised me with it as a birthday present. She said it was… like… she bought me my first bra, and she was there when I started my period, so she said she only felt right she was there with me when I… became a man."

And they were silent once more. Josh whispered, "Do you want help paying for—?"

"No." Tyler was stern. He even shook his finger and pointed no matter Josh wouldn't be able to see it. "Besides, we've only been dating for a month. I won't let my mom help me, and she's known me my whole life."

"I would give you the world if I could."

Tyler felt his heart stop. He felt his heart pick back up and start rolling in his stomach.

He said nothing. And yet, Josh understood that silence to be made of nothing but affection.

"Good night, Tyler," Josh whispered, and Tyler whispered it right back every time.

When it comes down to it, Tyler thinks it's to do with pride. Tyler wants to be the one to pay for his top surgery. He's started saving ever since he was a teen, and finally— _finally_ —he had enough and a little extra left over. He made the appointment. Everything was all set. It was an early Christmas present for himself.

And then, Josh decided to surprise him with a visit earlier than their original plan—three days before his scheduled top surgery.

"I think we can do this," he exclaimed over a FaceTime call, very much under his breath, for he was at work and hiding out in the break room when it was not his allotted break. "Tyler, I checked the price of plane tickets, and I double checked how much money I would have after I paid all my bills for the month and… and, Tyler,  _I think we can do this_."

Tyler didn't want to rain on Josh's parade. He was happy, too. He called his mom right after Josh's announcement to share the good news with her. He was at work, too,  _actually_  on his break. He told his mom, and she said, "You don't sound very pleased."

He touched his chest. He said nothing.

His surgery was on her calendar, as well. She understood. She said, "Have you talked to Josh about this?"

He only said, "No," and she sighed and said, "Okay," in response.

It wasn't that he wasn't excited to meet Josh because he was thrilled to feel Josh's arms and kiss his face and share a meal without a screen between them. However, he wished it was when he was  _himself_ , completely and utterly himself.

So, when Josh called to say Ohio's weather was proving too treacherous for travel, Tyler is ashamed to admit how pleased it made him.

He had fallen to his knees and screamed to the carpet. He patted his chest and squeezed his breasts until he was sure he would rip them off if he squeezed hard enough.

Josh wouldn't have to see him like  _this_.

All their late-night sexts and nude photos never drew attention to Tyler's chest, but Tyler knew when it came to the real world and the real Josh in his personal space, his breasts wouldn't be an allegory for everything that is wrong with him; they would be  _tangible_ , and Josh would  _touch_  him there—by accident, maybe on purpose because Tyler had let slip he liked to be felt up while being kissed, and Josh reassured him, "Don't worry, I'll feel up every part of your body." And Tyler dreaded what he had mistakenly implied with that statement.

But Josh is mindful. He has never shown any sort of contempt for Tyler. If he wasn't looking out for Tyler's best interests, he would have left soon after Tyler came out to him a year ago. He stayed, though. He stayed, and if Tyler were to tell him, "Please don't touch my tits when we're fucking," then Josh would absolutely do as he's told.

Still—that's the thing of his nightmares.

*

Tyler wakes to a text from Josh.  _How are you feeling?_  it reads.  _I hope your lack of communication means nothing bad has happened._

It's been four hours. The storm has quieted down, but Tyler flicks to the weather app on his phone and sees snow in the forecast now. He rubs at his eyes.

_i'm doing fine. was sleeping. how are you doing?_

His stomach is upset. It's nearly midnight. Josh would have arrived this evening, would have grabbed an Uber for the ride from the airport to Tyler's apartment. They would have hugged on Tyler's front porch and sat down to eat together, and then… and then,  _and then_ —Tyler forces himself to roll over and shut his eyes.

But his phone vibrates.

 _I'm cold_ , Josh says.

 _wrap up_ , Tyler says.

_I wish you were here to keep me warm._

_we'll be together soon enough._

_We will._

Choosing to ignore how much of a warning that text comes off as, Tyler sets his phone on the nightstand and falls back asleep.

*

He only manages to sleep for another hour before he hears a knock on his front door.

At first, he thinks it may be part of his dream, where Josh was here with him, levitating on the front porch because in Tyler's dream, he had a set of tawny wings and perfectly manicured talons. Josh chirped, too, and Tyler's laugh echoed from his own mouth like a pair of Christmas bells.

Tyler pushes himself up, his elbows digging into the mattress, and glances at the crack between his bedroom door and the hallway. It's dark out there, and in the distance, he swears he hears a second knock on his front door.

He stares into the darkness, like something might manifest if he were to stare hard enough. He even squints.

On the nightstand, his phone vibrates.

 _Baby, it's cold outside_ , Josh says.

 _josh_ , Tyler replies,  _we canceled that song._

And there's a third knock on his front door, and Tyler's phone rings now—a FaceTime call from Josh. Tyler reaches over to switch on the lamp on his bedside table before answering the video call.

Tyler tries to convince himself his bedhead and wrinkled clothing is cute as he waits for the screen to connect. It's still connecting when Josh tells Tyler, "Hi!" Tyler can only muster a soft, "Hello," once his screen updates to show Josh is standing beneath a light that illuminates a golden halo around his head. He's wearing a beanie. He's also wearing a scarf, and when he speaks, Tyler can see his breath.

"California enter a new ice age last I talked to you?"

Josh laughs. "God, I hope not. I forgot how cold it got here."

It's embarrassing how long it takes for Tyler to realize just exactly what Josh has said—and what it means. Even then, Tyler is slow in leaving his bed. Even then, Tyler is reluctant to leave his room. "What are you talking about?" He rubs his eye. "You—no, Josh—"

Tyler watches as Josh tilts his phone screen up to capture Tyler's porch light and the apartment number on his front door. "Hey, baby,  _it's cold outside_ ; wanna let me in?"

Tyler places his phone on his dresser.

Josh goes, "Tyler?"

For a moment, Tyler thinks he may faint. He steps away from his dresser and rotates on the heel of his foot. His reflection is not as cute as he tried to make himself out to be. All he wants to do is crawl back into bed, close his eyes, and return to his dream because this all  _must_  be a dream. Josh said his flight got canceled. He said he was going to refund his plane ticket. How is Josh here?  _How is Josh here?_

"Tyler?"

"Yeah?" Tyler tugs off his t-shirt and puts on his binder. He bites his lip as he adjusts his breasts.

"I'm sorry." Josh sounds broken. "I wanted this to be a surprise. I found another flight. I didn't tell you because you said you weren't feeling well, and I thought… I guess I just thought  _showing up_ would help you feel better."

Tyler feels better already. He smooths out his shirt and picks up his phone. "You have no idea how hard it is for me to keep it together right now."

Josh smiles. "I don't even know how I'm talking to you without throwing up."

"Please don't throw up."

Into the darkness, Tyler scurries. He slides across the hardwood floor in his socks and knocks his hip against the kitchen table. He runs.

Josh begins to bounce. "Tyler."

" _Josh_."

" _Tyler_."

"Fuck," Tyler says, and he repeats it when he throws his phone onto the couch, unlocks the front door, swings it open, and is lifted off his feet by Josh wrapping his arms around his torso.

"Hello to you, too," Josh breathes into Tyler's neck, shivering, cold. He's so cold.

"Fuck."

"Yes."

" _Fuck_."

"I didn't realize you had such a potty mouth," Josh says.

Tyler may cry. He touches Josh's arms, his face. Tyler cradles Josh's face between his hands and stares into Josh's eyes, so dark in this light they appear black. Josh's beard is soft in his hands— _so_  soft. Tyler was scared of this. He was scared of a lot of things for when he was to meet Josh for the first time. He was scared Josh would smell bad, that maybe Josh's voice wasn't as charming as it was over the phone. He was scared Josh wouldn't be as handsome, but here Josh is, wearing a beanie pulled low over his brow, a pimple on the side of his nose, and Tyler is crying. He's  _crying_ , and he's not embarrassed to crumble like this, not when Josh is in his living room with him, all bundled up in as many warm articles of clothing as California provided.

"Oh, fuck," Tyler sighs, and slings his arms around Josh's neck. He's thankful he pulled on his binder for this. Their chests are pressed together, Josh's hands are on his back, and they're so close, breathing in each other's air.

Josh begins to cry with him. "Fuck," he whispers.

Tyler smiles, wiping his eyes, and then Josh's eyes. Tyler can't help but to keep crying. He has to cry. "Are you hungry?" he asks, shaking his hands.

As always, Josh is staring at him, goofy grin on his lips. "No, my Uber driver had, like, chocolate. So, I snacked on that."

Tyler is vaguely aware of the bags on Josh's shoulders. After quickly locking the door, Tyler takes the bags from him. Josh acquiesces, saying, "I'm pretty sure the candy was left over from Halloween, though. The wrappers and all."

"Oh, lemme fix you—"

"It's okay, Tyler," Josh says, easing a bag from Tyler's hand to carry it himself. "Seriously. I'm more tired than anything."

"We can go to my bedroom, then."

"You'd be okay with that? I can sleep on the couch. I just want you to be comfortable."

Shaking his head, Tyler starts down the hallway and toward his bedroom. "Josh, we've been together for a  _year_."

"Well,  _yeah_ , but this is the first time we're together in the  _same room_ —let alone  _sleeping_  in the  _same bed_."

"It doesn't feel like it." Tyler sets Josh's bags on the floor, next to the bed's footboard and out of the way. "It feels like…" He tries to search for a word that's on the tip of his tongue, but he can't find it.

Josh is there, though, and he says, "Yeah." He drops his bag onto the floor and says, "It feels like I'm coming home."

They stand there, staring at each other, and it almost feels like Josh belongs here. He fits like a puzzle piece Tyler didn't know was missing. As much as Tyler hates that analogy, it makes sense. He steps forward and allows himself to be completely enveloped in nothing but Josh, and Josh obliges. Josh hugs Tyler, holds Tyler, and Josh presses his lips to Tyler's forehead.

"Yeah," Tyler says, "this feels like home."

Quietly, they separate, and Josh lowers his head to work on getting situated for bed. It's past midnight now. Josh has dark circles under his eyes. When he pulls the beanie from his head, Tyler catches sight of those curls, and he has to stop himself from throwing himself back into Josh's arms so he can card his fingers through Josh's hair. Tyler instead turns to the bed, fixing the covers and making sure the blankets are evenly spread out. He gives Josh an extra pillow.

As Josh changes his clothes, Tyler lowers his gaze and wonders if it would be okay to sleep in his binder. Of course, the obvious answer would be  _no_ ; however, he reasons with himself it will be okay since he didn't wear his binder at all today. He's about to pull the blankets over him after making his final decision when Josh gestures with his hands and asks, "Are you wearing your binder?"

Tyler admires Josh's blunt tone. He can't justify hiding this from Josh, not when there's a chance Tyler might wake up clawing at his chest in a desperate attempt to breathe.

His hesitation is enough for Josh to smile and approach the bed, hands outstretched. "Lemme help you."

"Don't look."

"I won't."

And Josh doesn't. His eyes stay trained on Tyler's face as Tyler raises his arms to help Josh slip his t-shirt off his head. Keeping still, Josh holds Tyler's shirt so Tyler can focus on removing his binder. "Thank you," Tyler says, dropping the binder to the floor and pulling back on his shirt.

Josh sits. Josh stares.

Tyler stares right back.

"I like your shirt," Josh says.

Tyler looks down. "Nintendo," he says.

"Yeah."

"Can I kiss you?"

"God, I thought you'd never ask." Josh clears his throat. "I mean—yeah, you can kiss me. I'd like that, in fact… if you kissed me."

So, Tyler kisses Josh. Slow and delicate, Tyler sets his hands on the bed sheets in front of him as leverage for leaning forward and knocking his forehead into Josh's. Josh's hands take Tyler's head into them, their own form of leverage. When Tyler's mouth meets Josh's, the burning in Tyler's gut ignites as deeply and readily as the first day they began talking. Tyler never thought the feelings he had for Josh at the beginning would carry on one year later, but here they were— _here they are_ —and Tyler wastes absolutely no time in lying down and pulling Josh on top of him. Their hands graze shoulders, arms, the sliver of skin along abdomens and behind ears.

With Josh lying on top of Tyler, Tyler's legs wrapped around Josh's waist, they each fall asleep with spit on their lips and love in their stomachs. In his admiration-fueled stupor, not once does Tyler realize Josh falls asleep using his breasts as a pillow.

*

In the morning, Tyler wakes to find them on opposite sides of the bed, namely due to Josh reaching over to plug his phone charger into an outlet. Tyler stares at the back of Josh's head, at the bird nest of curls. When Josh stretches to switch off Tyler's lamp, Tyler realizes it can't be morning because it's too dark, too loud, and Tyler remembers he dreamed about Josh having those wings again and taking flight as Tyler stayed grounded with tears in his eyes.

The tears threaten to break free. Tyler blinks. He wipes them away with a rough swipe of the heel of his hand.

Right now, Josh is none the wiser. He's back on his phone, tapping with one thumb. Tyler can't tell what he's doing. The screen's too dark. Everything is too dark.

Tyler thinks it's hailing. He has surgery in two days.

He rolls onto his side. Josh doesn't notice. He thinks Tyler is asleep still, just tossing and turning like normal. For a moment, Tyler is thankful for that. When he carefully tugs his shirt over his head, Josh is too oblivious to note any difference. It's when Tyler's raising onto his elbow and reaching to tap Josh on the back of his shoulder that Josh finally mumbles, "Hey," and turns his head. "Phone says it's storming outside. Woke up to the wind, but I guess it's not just the wind anymore." He sets his phone on the floor, the outlet too far from any sort of furniture to place his phone upon.

"Yeah, I heard." Tyler keeps his shirt to his chest, hiding, obscuring. His skin feels hot.

"We should try to go back to sleep," Josh says. He turns again, his whole body this time, and he lies on his stomach with his elbows propping himself up, and he sees Tyler. His eyes go to the hand and shirt over Tyler's chest. He looks up, at Tyler, and he goes, "Tyler?"

"I… Give me some time, okay? I feel sick."

"Do you want me to do anything?"

"Stay there. Please. Just… stay there for me."

Josh nods. His eyes seem to glow in the dark.

Tyler breathes. He inhales, exhales. Josh breathes with him. It's a simple act, breathing, and yet, Tyler considers it endearing. He doesn't know why. He doesn't know why just watching Josh's shoulders rise and fall helps his stomach settle if only a little bit. "Okay." He drops the shirt. He keeps his eyes open. He watches Josh. Josh's eyes never stray from his face.

Oh, Tyler is in love.

"Before we made plans to see each other, I made an appointment for my top surgery. I didn't tell you because I thought we were going to meet after the fact, and that maybe you wouldn't have to see me with a chest I didn't like. I still didn't tell you about my surgery because I didn't know how. When you said your flight got canceled, I was  _happy_. You wouldn't have to see me like  _this_." Tyler waves his hand. Josh, again, does not look anywhere but Tyler's face.

"But you're here. Our original plan was for you to stay for a week. Is that… is that the plan now?"

"I was thinking about it. That's what I told my boss."

Tyler nods, whispering, "Okay.  _Okay_."

Josh reaches forward and cups the side of Tyler's neck. He holds Tyler there, his thumb giving a caress to Tyler's cheekbone.

Rushed and nervous, Tyler speaks, "I know it might be too much of me to ask of you because I'm springing this on you out of the blue—and I would understand if you decide to leave after I tell you this—but my surgery is in two days."

And so, Tyler waits. He moves little, only choosing to open his eyes when Josh's thumb stops moving. Josh is staring at him, brow furrowed, bottom lip poking out in a slight pout of concern. "Why would I leave you?" he asks.

Funny how Josh tacks on the "you" when Tyler mentioned Josh  _leaving_. Somehow, in Tyler's head, he convinces himself that while Josh may not want to be here for Tyler's top surgery, he would want to maintain a relationship with Tyler anyway—but even as Tyler runs this over in his mind, he realizes it makes no sense. If Josh doesn't want to be here for his top surgery, Josh doesn't deserve to be here at all. And Josh knows that. He doesn't want to leave. He doesn't want to leave Tyler.

Tyler can only shrug.

Josh's kiss is small. Tyler scoots closer to place his hand on Josh's neck and kiss him in return. This kiss isn't small. Tyler can't tell whose fingers are stronger as they curl around and tug on hair at the napes of necks.

"I wanted to give you an out," Tyler says, Josh kissing his neck. "I know it's sudden, and this isn't what you expected when you came to see me."

"Our plans were ruined anyway because of the weather."

"But this is me recovering from  _surgery_."

Josh gives a playful nip to Tyler's Adam's apple. "Yeah? And? I'm not going anywhere. I want to be there for you as you become the person you're meant to be."

Tyler wobbles, falls, and Josh goes with him. As Tyler lies on his back, Josh continues to place kisses all over Tyler's face. His beard is soft. His beard is so soft.

"I love you, Josh."

"I love you, too, Tyler."

Onto his elbows, Tyler props himself up. Not once does Josh glance down; he's smiling and passing his thumb over Tyler's eyebrow. With a deep breath, Tyler says, "When we have sex, I'm going to keep my shirt on, but before I get them removed, I want you to see my… my…"

"It's too dark in here to properly look at them," Josh muses.

Tyler grins. "Well, that sucks, doesn't it?"

Josh looks at Tyler's chest, his head on his fist, an amused sort of smile on his face as he places his hand on Tyler's sternum. He keeps it there, drumming his fingers absently. "You should get some chest tattoos after everything is healed. When you go to the beach or something, people will look at them and not the scars."

"I considered that." Tyler would show Josh the artist he found on Instagram if his phone wasn't still in the living room. The designs were often linework, clean and minimalist. Tyler likes the geometry of them, perfect harmony—if there's ever such a thing in this world.

Josh returns to Tyler's neck, the hand between Tyler's breasts running up to hold the side of Tyler's neck. Josh kisses him there, pulls him in closer, and Tyler rolls onto his stomach and welcomes the nauseating feeling of their chests pressing together.

"Do I get to look at anything else in the dark?" Josh asks right into Tyler's ear. Tyler shivers, has to, and Josh hugs him and holds him through it as he ducks his head to suck a small bruise under Josh's jawline.

"You've already seen the rest of me," Tyler remarks, "in the light, in the dark, in photos and videos, and otherwise."

"You have made several points there." Josh kisses Tyler's cheek. "I can wait. Turn around. You can be the little spoon."

"You want to be the big spoon?"

"No, I said you can be the little spoon. Plus, you'll have an easier time getting out of the bed if your upset stomach takes a turn for the worse." Josh keeps his hand on Tyler's back as they move around on the bed. Their movements are quiet, a little sluggish. The hail outside sounds more like sleet now. It's a good soundtrack, something Tyler can focus on instead of the quivering in his stomach.

Josh kisses Tyler's shoulders and the old acne scars spread along the dark skin. "I want you to be comfortable." Josh continues kissing, continues whispering into Tyler's skin. "I can only understand this as much as my cisgender brain will allow, but, Tyler, I love you for  _you_ , and it doesn't matter how you look… and I know you wouldn't let me help pay for your surgery, but there's absolutely nothing you can do that'll stop me from pampering you after."

"Please don't spend any money on me," Tyler sighs.

Josh laughs. " _Try and stop me_." He slings his arm around Tyler's waist, and Tyler, after a moment of collecting himself, drops his own arm to lace his fingers between Josh's.

They hold hands. They sleep.

*

For breakfast, Josh fixes Tyler waffles. They sit at the kitchen table, Josh frequently apologizing for overstepping his boundaries. "I just saw these in the freezer, and I remembered when you told me you liked waffles more than pancakes and—"

"Josh," Tyler says, and rubs Josh's arm, "my home is your home."

Josh smiles. He smiles.

The weather outside is, for lack of a better word, frightful. Tyler gravitated to the window upon waking, pulling back on his shirt and peering from behind his curtains and blinds to see nothing but white. Josh was in the kitchen at this point, making waffles and listening to the local news station. They were advising everybody to stay indoors. Government buildings, businesses, and schools were closed due to the snow and the inclement weather still in the forecast for the rest of the day.

As they sit at the table, Tyler munches on his waffles and taps out a message to his boss, just to make sure about his schedule for today. He doesn't think it's likely he'll need to come in, especially since he so often walks to work. He has boots, though, and he can layer up if need be.

Josh says, "We're practically snowed in. They won't make you go in unless someone, like,  _really_  needs their piano serviced."

"You never know."

"Does your boss know about, uh, your surgery?"

"Yes. They're giving me the rest of the month off."

Operating at below twenty percent, Tyler's phone vibrates with a reply—he's to stay at home.  _Keep warm and be safe._

Tyler's smile is all Josh needs. "Very cool.  _Okay_. We have the whole day ahead of us. What do you want to do?"

And Josh's smile is all Tyler needs.

But just to be sure—"Do you want to have sex?"

That question alone is enough to make Tyler moan. " _Yes_."

When they finish with their breakfast, they retreat into the bedroom, skidding across the floors to get there faster. They hold hands throughout this journey, laughing all the way. Once they're in the bedroom, Tyler shuts the door behind them, and Josh plugs Tyler's phone into its charger, then bounces onto the bed. "Come here," he says. "Come here, come here,  _come here_."

Without skipping a beat, Tyler climbs onto the bed and pulls Josh on top of him. Their lips connect first, rather than their foreheads. It's a welcome improvement. Tyler's licking the inside of Josh's mouth as Josh tucks his thumbs into the waistband of Tyler's pants. Getting undressed is easy. They move as if this isn't the first time they've done so together. Tyler likes to think it is from their sexting, that maybe the red line of fate that drew them to each other is now wrapping itself around their torsos to guide them even closer.

Josh is careful. He doesn't try to take off Tyler's shirt, only shoving it up a fraction to kiss at Tyler's stomach and bite at Tyler's hips. "Lower," Tyler tells him. " _Lower_." And Josh goes lower. He goes lower, kisses Tyler's mound of curls and what lies within. Diligent and ever delicate, Josh wraps his lips around Tyler's clit and applies a gentle suction. His arms loop around Tyler's thighs, pulling Tyler closer, pushing himself closer. "You're doing so good," Tyler whispers, his hands in Josh's hair and twisting around the curls. " _Baby_."

Like a slow vibration, the humming on his clit is enough to carry him to the edge. Josh's tongue works him open, and Tyler thinks he could come like this, too. Josh is slow in all the right ways, prodding, inspecting. He spits on Tyler's clit. He spits again, then rubs it in with his fingertips. "You get off like this, right? You said something like that before.  _No_ , you sent me a  _video_  of you getting off like this once." Josh licks Tyler's clit, spit on his lip, spit on his chin. He rubs circles into the base of Tyler's clit.

"Josh,  _please_."

"I like watching you get yourself off."

Tyler runs his hand down his body, meeting Josh's fingers in his pubes. For a second, Josh holds his hand before sitting up and pulling off his clothes. Tyler strokes his clit with the pad of his thumb, stretching with his free hand to tug open his nightstand drawer and take out the lubricant. He tosses it to Josh. Josh catches, stumbling a bit. He's smiling still as he sits on his knees. "I thought you were already pretty wet."

"If you think you can stick it in me just fine, be my guest. Do you want a condom?"

"I'm negative for everything. Are you on birth control?"

"Being on testosterone for as long as I have killed my period."

"That's really cool, but never mind that. Do you want me to wear a condom?"

Josh never fails to make Tyler fall in love with him over and over again. "I want you to come inside me," Tyler says, and with that, he grabs the backs of his thighs and spreads his legs open. Josh's eyes fall. He sets the lube aside and returns to lying on his stomach, choosing instead to bury his face in Tyler's cunt. Tyler gasps. Tyler's back arches from the bed. Josh slides a finger inside Tyler, and Tyler thinks he might begin to float.

"Kiss me. Kiss me," Tyler says. "I need you to kiss me."

Josh obliges, his finger nestled in Tyler's cunt and a second one slipping its way inside. It goes in smoothly, achingly slow. Josh says, "You're a little tighter than I thought you'd be," and Tyler says, " _Yeah_ , you have to be careful with me."

"I'm going to keep these fingers in you for a bit, okay? Get used to them. Is that all right?"

Tyler nods.

Josh kisses him, and he kisses Josh.

When Josh's fingers leave him to grab at the lubricant, Tyler lies on his stomach. Pausing, Josh gives Tyler's bottom a pat before returning to the lubricant and applying a sufficient amount to his cock. They don't talk, only communicating through head nods and smiles. Tyler spreads his legs again, raising one up to accommodate Josh, and Josh occupies the space perfectly. Then, his chest to Tyler's back and his arms wrapped around Tyler's shoulders, Josh asks, "How do you want me to fuck you?"

It's meant to be sexy, but Josh's tone is that of concern. As much as he's eager, he's scared, too; and frankly, Tyler is right there with him.

His reply to Josh comes out quietly. "Fuck me like you've waited all year."

Josh sinks his teeth into Tyler's neck and does exactly that.

*

Their second round has Tyler on top. He feels in control. He feels good. He keeps on his Nintendo shirt and feels like a king.

*

The third round is barely a third round. Tyler pulls a dry orgasm from Josh by sucking on his nipples.

Josh says, "Don't do that again," with a smile on his face.

Tyler kisses Josh's cheek. "I won't."

*

They spend the rest of the day sleeping. Josh is the little spoon.

*

The snow begins to melt, but it's a slow process. Another day inside, the meteorologists advise them, and so they stay inside. Cereal for breakfast, a quick shower together, and then with Josh insisting today needs to be a day of relaxation, they decide to curl up on the couch and watch Christmas movies on Hallmark. For once, Tyler doesn't wear his binder and is comfortable enough to do so.

For dinner, they fix spaghetti and meatballs and feed each other. Josh asks about Tyler's surgery. "Is it, like, an outpatient procedure? Will it just be me there with you?"

"My mom will be there. She was supposed to take me, but since you're here now…" Tyler pauses. "I bet she's excited to meet you."

They play footsie under the table.

Josh holds Tyler's hand. "I know it's stupid, but I'm really nervous about tomorrow."

"You don't have to be."

"I guess I'm… I'm more anxious than anything, you know?  _Excited_ , even. You're gonna look so good, dude."

Tyler flushes an awkward pink. He shakes his head.

"God, Tyler. There's no way I'm gonna ever top this Christmas present," Josh says.

"You already have by being here with me." Despite how cliché it is leaving Tyler's lips, he can't picture himself saying it any other way. He means it. By the way Josh begins to blush, too, Tyler can tell Josh knows he means it.

Clearing his throat and scratching his cheek, Josh says, "So, okay, give me a rundown of everything I need to know for tomorrow."

Tyler's cheeks hurt from how hard he's smiling. "I'll show you the papers my surgeon gave me. I already packed a bag."

*

When they settle down for bed—a little earlier than usual—Tyler grabs his phone from the charger. Josh is fixing the pillows, pulling back the comforter and blankets. He's oblivious. He's yawning and running his fingers through his beard. Tyler reaches his hand over to do the same, lightly rubbing the hairs on Josh's chin as his free hand taps the screen until he connects to a FaceTime call with his mom. Because of the evening hour, he expects her to be awake, but he can't be for sure. His mom, and even his dad, like to head to their bedroom at the time most people would want to go out and  _do something_.

Luckily for him, she picks up. And luckily for him, he's able to get himself situated on the bed with Josh on his right before the screen catches up to them.

"Hey, Mama!" he says, waving.

Indeed, she is in bed. "Hi, Tyler! I was just about to send you a text." She pauses for effect. "Tomorrow's the big day!"

"It is!"

"Are you nervous any? It's okay to be nervous about something you're completely ready for and wanting, you know? It just means you care."

"Then, yeah, I'm nervous." Tyler smiles, too bright for himself to even think it wasn't embarrassing. He tones it down, his mom laughing at him, but he shifts his attention—and his phone—to the right, to Josh, saying, "Look who's here, Mom!"

She gasps, faux. "Josh!"

Josh waves. "Hey."

"I didn't think you'd be coming in because of the weather, but Tyler never texted me, so I assumed you two were  _busy_." Her eyebrows shoot to her hairline, lips pressing together in a knowing gesture.

Tyler has to fight the urge to detail their sexual escapades to his mother. Maybe if Josh weren't here, he'd be able to give a hint that they were having fun, but with Josh here, Tyler can only give his mom a smile before he moves on. He stretches out his arm, capturing both of them in his phone's view. "Josh is coming with us tomorrow. He's going to be staying with me afterwards, too, so you don't have to stay the night like we thought."

She seems happy, almost pleased. She looks between Josh and him. "How long is he staying?"

"Just a week," Tyler says.

She gasps again, this time genuine. "But next week is Christmas! Is he leaving before then?"

Josh interjects, "I'm gonna try to negotiate with my boss. I don't see the point in leaving until after New Year's."

Tyler is too occupied with calming down his soaring heart to hear his mom express her agreement. He's turning his head and staring at Josh, and Josh is talking to his mom like normal, like he's family, and Tyler's turning his head and staring at his mom now and saying, "Hey, Mom, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

They all exchange a round of "good night" and "sleep well". Tyler plugs back in his phone, and then he's turning back to Josh and staring at Josh and pulling Josh in for a kiss. He holds Josh's head between his hands and says against his lips, "This might be bold of me to ask, but do you want to move in with me?"

"That  _is_  awfully bold of you to ask." Josh curves his hands around Tyler's torso, hugging him. "I don't think I can uproot my life at the moment. Maybe next year."

"'Next year' is just a few weeks away."

" _Exactly_."

No one is the little spoon tonight. They lie side by side, Tyler holding onto Josh's wrist and Josh breathing in the hair at the top of Tyler's head.

*

Tyler's mom picks them up two hours ahead of schedule. She navigates the roads carefully, the snow on the sides of the streets turning into a gray slush. Tyler hates the way it sounds when they drive through it.

The hum of Christmas songs on the radio helps set him as far back from the edge as possible. He sits up front, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. It's pink. He already knows he's going to sweat through it before they get to the hospital.

Josh is in the back, texting him encouraging messages. Tyler promised he wouldn't read them until he's home—until  _they're_  home. He'll be in pain, but it'll be a good pain. It'll be the best pain of his life.

"I'm ready," Tyler says.

He links arms with his mom and holds hands with Josh.

*

Tyler's on cloud nine.

*

At home, in bed, Tyler scrolls through the messages Josh sent him and cries. He cries because of a lot of things.

Josh sits next to him, brushing his fingers through Tyler's hair and crying because of a lot of things, too.

Tyler reaches out and squeezes Josh's knee. "I'm so flat. Oh, my God,  _Josh_ , I think you have bigger tits than me now."

It hurts to laugh, but he laughs. Josh kisses his forehead and laughs with him. "I think you might be right."

*

Tyler's mom visits when she can. She brings over food, which Josh feeds him despite Tyler being able to do it himself—always with a smile on his face.

After Josh shows her how, she empties Tyler's drains. "It looks good, Tyler," she says. "Your chest looks good. You can hardly see the scars."

"It feels good, Mama," he whispers. "It feels so good."

*

When they're alone, late at night, Josh kisses Tyler's chest, right underneath the bolsters on his nipple grafts. "Can you feel that?"

"Yes."

Josh kisses, and Josh kisses.

Tyler closes his eyes.

*

Tyler sleeps often. He has dreams of Josh ditching his tawny wings to build a nest in Tyler's bedroom. His nest is made of stuffed animals. He coos. He sings. Tyler has dreams of Josh crawling into his bed and eating him out until the tremble in Tyler's thighs is permanent.

He always wakes to Josh. Josh is awake. Josh is on his phone. Josh is watching TV. Josh is rarely asleep when Tyler wakes, but when Tyler sleeps, Josh sleeps with him.

Every passing day, Josh combs dry shampoo through Tyler's hair and gives him a makeshift bath with baby wipes. Tyler hates how much he enjoys this.

One night, they watch Christmas movies on Tyler's laptop. Sometime during the delirious state between  _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_  and  _The Santa Clause_ , Tyler gives Josh the a-okay to make a gingerbread house.

"Are you sure I told you it was fine?" Tyler asks. He stands in the kitchen, robe on his shoulders, his hands in the pockets.

"Yes, Tyler."

It's ten in the morning, and Tyler gazes at the two-feet-tall gingerbread house on the tabletop. "And I told you to make it this big?"

"Yes, Tyler."

Tyler plucks off the gumdrop gutter and shoves it into his mouth. " _Interesting_."

*

After Josh informs his boss how his significant other had surgery and needed someone to stay around during the recovery process, they give him time off, assuring that he'll have a job to go back to when he returns.

"Now, you're stuck with me." Josh taps Tyler's bottom lip.

"Good." Tyler purses his lips, kissing Josh's fingertip.

Josh smiles. "Good."

*

When the weather isn't too cold, Josh and he walk around the block. And when the weather is too cold, Josh and he walk around the house. Light exercise is good for his recovery. He can't do much. He can do this.

And when the weather isn't too terrible, they go to the park and walk downtown and visit the record store Tyler keeps telling Josh about because Tyler  _knows_  Josh will love it.

Josh makes Tyler look away as he's picking out vinyls. "Christmas present," he says, tacking on, "shut up; I'm allowed to spoil you."

Tyler doesn't argue. It's pointless when it comes to Josh, especially more now than ever. "I'll turn away," Tyler says, doing as he's told, "but can I at least pay for dinner today?"

"Nope!"

They eat at Cracker Barrel, tucked away in a corner by the fire just the two of them. "You're glowing," Josh remarks. "I kinda want to pinch your cheeks."

"Please don't." Tyler's blushing. He hides his face in his scarf.

Taking a chance, Josh leans in and delivers a well-placed kiss on Tyler's nose. "You smell nice."

"I smell like you."

"That's why I said you smell nice."

"I'm really happy you're here with me."

Josh lowers his fork. In this dim light, he looks even more like an angel. "I'm really happy I'm here with you, too."

"I don't just mean the surgery. I mean everything."

"I know," Josh says.

Over the table, he meets Tyler's hand halfway. "I know."

*

Christmas Eve has Tyler, his mom, and Josh in the surgeon's office for his drain removal. It feels weird, almost like a pinch, but it doesn't hurt. Uncomfortable, though, that's a given. Tyler is used to being uncomfortable about his chest. This is nothing new.

Tyler's to change the dressings on his nipple grafts daily now, preferably after showering and with not too much Neosporin. Josh takes down notes on his phone.

On the car ride back to his apartment, Tyler stares at the gray, ugly slush along the sides of the road and cries. He keeps his hand to his sternum and cries.

"Tyler?" His mom is quiet, her voice like a tiptoe as she pulls into the driveway.

"It's a good cry," Tyler tells her. "I'm so happy."

She hugs him.

Josh rubs his eyes.

They have dinner together. Tyler's mom asks them about the future. "Would you be visiting Josh in California next? Are you going to move away from here?"

Before Tyler can answer, Josh says, "I was thinking about moving down here next year."

"Oh, that's exciting!"

Tyler watches his mom and Josh interact, no words leaving his own mouth. Josh answers her questions with poise, not one inquiry being left in the air. They share jokes and laugh. Tyler smiles. He is lucky to have found Josh. He wouldn't want to imagine life without him.

*

Christmas Day features Tyler waking up, walking into the kitchen, and seeing more sweets on their table. They aren't as grand as the first gingerbread house, but it's enough for Tyler to stick a wet finger in Josh's ear and twist his wrist. "I  _know_  I didn't tell you to do  _any_  of this."

"You explicitly said you needed cookies and brownies and cake pops," Josh says.

"Josh,  _I love you_ , but you're  _lying_."

Josh grins. "Go back to bed, dude."

Tyler does. It's easy to fall asleep. When Josh settles into the bed, it's sleeting. And there's something else, scratching. Tyler's dreams slip from his fingers to instead be pillowed by the intoxicating sensation of Death Cab for Cutie. "Oh," Tyler whispers. "Oh, that's my record player."

"Merry Christmas." Josh plays with the buttons on Tyler's shirt, plucking them like the strings of a harp. "I bought you a hoodie, too… but… you can't wear pullover tops for a while. You can wait to open that."

"What color is it?"

"Yellow." Josh chews on the inside of his cheek. "Wait. I got a shirt you can wear—and I'll help you put it on."

Josh leaves the bed for a moment. He goes into Tyler's closet and yanks a t-shirt from the hanger. "Here," he says, sitting down, lying down on his stomach. He passes the article of clothing to Tyler.

It's his Nintendo shirt.

Tyler holds it to his face, his lips. The softness and warmth of the fabric is overwhelming for him right now. He wants to keep it here, nestled between them in order to never forget this moment or the moments leading up to this. "Thank you." Tyler folds the shirt to keep the logo visible, then places the shirt on his chest. "Close enough," he says. "Right?"

"Close enough." Josh places his palm on the logo and curls his fingers.

Slowly, he moves, kissing Josh on the forehead. His lips linger, wanting to stick to Josh like glue. It hurts to rotate his body, but he still turns more and presses his hand to the side of Josh's face. Tentative, with his eyes darting from Josh's eyes to Josh's mouth, Tyler kisses Josh. He kisses Josh. He kisses Josh. "I don't want to think about you leaving." Those words hurt his stomach. They twist up his insides. For a second, Tyler's hands grow clammy. He means to remove his hand from Josh's face, yet Josh keeps it there, using it as his own form of support. This hurts, too. Tyler struggles to keep his voice steady, to keep his lips from trembling and his chin from quivering. "I don't want to think about… about you leaving  _me_."

The sleet comes down in waves.

The poor weather is never-ending.

They have each other.

With strong arms and a heart too big for him, Josh hugs Tyler and carefully rests his head on Tyler's chest. "I don't want to think about that either."

So, they don't.

**Author's Note:**

> art for this fic: [[one](http://edyluewho.tumblr.com/post/181592291339)]


End file.
